Of Mentors And The Force
by Soxman
Summary: "A simple twist in fate, and suddenly the galaxy tilts off its axis." With a simple change to the events of Kotor, the galaxy as we now it has forever dissapeared. One-shot for now. Not the pairing.
1. Chapter 1

AN: I do not own Star Wars and/or KOTOR, and I'm not making a profit from this. I wrote this KOTOR fic based on an idea about Kreia's character. In The Sith Lords, she is presented as Revan's mentor above all. In fact, it is Kreia herself in Two who states, "_He came to me, yes. Both before and after, before Revan knew himself…He learned from each. But in the end, he turned back to me. When he realized there was nothing more to be learned from the Jedi - except how one could leave them forever."_And that was genesis of this idea: what would the galaxy look like if Kreia had been able to intervene in Malak's betrayal. During the Endar Spire scene, I reuse some of the game's dialogue. Aside from that disclaimer, I don't own Star Wars or Kotor. I hope you all enjoy this revision.

Prologue: The Currents of The Force

Her eyelids flickered open as she finally awoke from her slumber. She groaned softly, the sound echoing off the barren walls. She groaned quietly and slowly turned over, feeling the cold rock beneath her. Finally, after several minutes of struggle, with her body simply refusing to move at certain points, she lay flat on her back, breathing heavily. She tried to better gauge her surroundings, but eyes were blurry from the red haze of the Trayus Academy. She felt horrible, and it wasn't due to the burdens of her age or the wounds from her recent defeat; betrayal wounded her like a knife. She looked around, pulling her black robe closer to her weathered body as her senses returned. Sion and Nihilus were gone. Obviously. Why would they have stayed? She was alone… as the betrayed always was. It was a feeling she become very familiar with. Gently, she cast her senses around her. She truly was alone. Wait… senses. Senses?

But didn't Sion… she gently raised her hand and gestured towards the broken lightsaber lying several feet away. She stared at the broken shards, the bent cylinder and felt a small pang of regret. Gently, she felt for the connection, the very tendrils. The remains of the lightsaber rattled slightly. It was enough to feel her with a feeling of elation. They'd failed! Surely there could be no other explanation! Sion and Nilihus were not, could not have been arrogant enough to leave her alive and unharmed, ready to strike back and exact her revenge when the time was ripe. It was like a man turning their back on an enraged wookie, or ignoring a horde of mynocks. She had taught her students better. In some ways. And obviously, one of their deficiencies was…

It was very confusing for her, someone who had hated the force and all it represented with a passion, yet was dependent on its abilities and all it could provide. Finally, she settled on satisfaction. The failed Sith lords hadn't done what they had intended, she still had the force. It may have been- as she had once likened it to in private- like using a poison that temporarily increased a person's strength, but it was her poison to use. With grim satisfaction, Kreia closed her eyes. She felt the force grow in strength, call to her as she slowed her breathing, seeking the familiar embrace of a Jedi healing trance.

The force was a complicated thing, but like Revan, she had not immersed herself in the Dark Side, only heeding its call in times of need. The coexistence of both sides was thought impossible; of course it was her student who had first broken the rules of the galaxy. An ache in her chest forced her to abandon other lines of inquiry; being healed was her biggest concern. And so she sat, her mind blank, as the familiar currents of the force washed over her body, and slowly healed her injuries. She was did not know- nor did she really care- how much time passed while she sat on the Heart of Malachor V. Gently, as the pain finally receded, Kreia began reigning in her command of the force, casting her senses outward. What had occurred in the galaxy while she had been otherwise occupied? Fortunately, she had learned how to sharpen the force and hone it, like a crude radio, to focus on those she was most familiar with. And…

She hit upon Malak. Darth Malak? Darth. Malak. The new lord of the Sith. How long had she been unconscious for? Where was Revan? Feeling slightly panicked, Kreia reached out with the force, searching for his presence. And found nothing. Desperate to find him, Kreia called out to the old bond between Master and Apprentice. It may have been severed, but such a bound still left its echoes. And she finally found him, his body battered, his mind near broken… in the clutches of the Jedi. Her shock was so great it would have been strong enough to force her to knock her off her feet had she been standing. No. No! She physically moaned in pain, Revan's defeat cutting into her far more effectively than the pain of her own. She began shaking in silent fury; almost ready to scream her frustration to the empty remains of the Academy.

She grasped the remains of her connection with Revan and gently pushed forward, less concerned with the now and more concerned about the why. Why was Malak the new Dark Lord of the Sith? Why did the Jedi have possession of Revan's body? Why was Revan in such a state?  
Slowly, ever so slowly, the answers came to her. Betrayal. She saw it in a hail of fire, as Revan's skin blackened and his eyes lost focus in front of- As for the Master, the same for the student. Malak! That blasted fool! Revan should never have- And he had been captured. The girl she had seen before, present at Revan's betrayal, had apparently been responsible. Wonderful. Why? Why would she go through all this trouble and recover- ah. The picture of Jedi desperation formed, complete with Vrook's usual protestations and Vandar's typical 'neutral' council. Only with Revan's unwitting help could they find a way to undo his life's work. Had it been any other time, Kreia might have indulged in a low chuckle about the arrogance of Jedi preaching about how the Sith were pawns of the Dark Side had been so willing to indulge in using pawns as well. If they had succeeded, that is; Kreia was going to make certain they did not.

Because, simply put, the galaxy needed Revan. He was possibly the greatest of the Jedi, with an unrivaled ability to use and understand the force, to command respect, to shape the galaxy to endure the coming darkness. And the Jedi were… REPROGRAMING HIM! The arrogance! The sheer arrogance! The Jedi masters never learned! Not with Kun, not with Qel-Droma, not with the Mandalorians, and certainly not now. She steeled her resolve, knowing she could not- would not- let this happen. The protections the Jedi had erected to ensure secrecy and success were crude things indeed. So crude, in fact, that Kreia paused for a moment to ponder whether Malak could not have- no. Malak was apparently secure in his victory; he had no reason to suspect anything of this kind. Gently, Kreia prodded the bond once more to access Reven's unconscious mind.

He had secured it quite well actually. While the Jedi were busy attempting to implant him with a new identity- an ordinary smuggler or some such nonsense- she set to her task. It was genius in its simplicity, a tactic Revan had devised to protect the secrets of high value targets. She likened it to a vault, a part of his mind all- except her- would be unaware of, unable to touch or access. The difficulty was transferring all that he needed from his broken mind before the Jedi had completed their task. And so she began digging through Revan's life as quickly and gently as she could. Granted, some of the information in his head even she could not save. It would remain buried in his subconscious, slipping out like a stream through a poorly built dam. Perhaps, with time, it would be restored, but it was beyond her ability to do the task as she was at this time. But she could save his mind- his memories, his ability: all that made him Revan- within the subconscious vault she had built. But then she struck it; a connection flowing outward from deep within Revan. Another bond. Who…?

The name was the first thing to come to her. It was child's play to use such a connection to discover what she wanted to know. Shan. Bastila Shan: the Jedi who possessed the bond with him. Bastila had saved him- when his body and mind had been damaged from Malak's surprise attack- by touching his mind to hers. And there were the roots of this connection- a deep bond- that existed between them. She had heard of such a thing of course, though the defining characteristic of such a phenomenon had been its rarity. But from what she remembered, the bond was an instrument that could make Revan stronger; perhaps help him turn aside disaster at the right moment. Putting that aside, Kreia continued in her efforts- locking away Revan's real identity, real skills, everything that belonged to him- until she could help him recover properly and return to form. She finally pulled back slightly once her work was finished, and a new thought flashed across her mind. Bastila Shan… she could be a problem.

Kreia shifted slightly, following the connection from Revan to Bastila, reaching out… She was assaulted by senses, memories; flashes of information. Talravin. That was the beginning. Her home. It gave Kreia a faint sense of hope that this woman regarded something other than the Jedi as a home. Next came appearance; very beautiful, very attractive by most men's standards. The result was the connection between body and mind- the force. She was strong in the Force and… she possessed a rare gift: Battle meditation ability. True Battle Meditation- the ability to influence battles wholesale rather than the cruder imitation Kreia could manage- was one of the rarest and most powerful arts of the Jedi.

But her gifts- with every strength there was a weakness- molded her into an arrogant, short-tempered, insecure woman. Her time with the Jedi had introduced contradictory notions; "I have this special gift, yet I am the same as all my peers? Why can't they grasp… Why must they be so incompetent? Am I really doing the right thing?" Kreia had met many like her; many Jedi with gifts just as special and with weaknesses just as damaging. But it didn't stop there. As she had also been molded into a stereotypical Jedi, she was also short-sighted, too-trusting, edgy, critical, self-absorbed, and extremely overconfident. If she was attempting to make herself the image of a Jedi- which she was- then she was absorbing those character flaws as well. There was no doubt; she was a weakness currently- one that would only drag Revan down. The gift had become a potential catastrophe. But maybe… maybe she could become a part of his strength. With time. And care. And proper molding… perhaps her power could be Revan's. It would require all of the old Revan's cunning, charisma, and talent. But she could be useful. Maybe. Kreia would have to think on this. Perhaps… she was the foil Revan needed. The foil the Sith teachings needed.

Kreia had seen the weakness of the Sith, the failings of the Triumvirate. An alliance built upon hatred- she now realized- was fragile at best. But Revan, he was her greatest achievement to date. He hadn't succumbed to their weakness. She put all her hope, all her trust, in him. And so, as she fixed Revan's mind, she poured a bit more of herself to him. It hurt her, not worse than the pain of Sion and Nihilus, or of his betrayal, but it taxed her to give that part herself to Revan, to make him whole. But he needed to access to what she had gifted; memories of Sion and Nihilus- the Trayus academy. Undiscovered teachings and doctrines of the Ancient Sith. And a few abilities and scraps of knowledge of the Force she had picked up in her travels- like the ability to hone in on a familiar person through the Force. He needed it all if his journey was to be successful.

Finally finished with her manipulations, she broke off the connection, panting. Revan could return; she had cleared the way for him. Of course, the Jedi, in their wisdom, would never detect it- they would fanatically believe that the identity they implanted- Romulus Katarn- was the identity Revan would take on. Of course, it would benefit Revan in some ways, giving him ability to access talents the memories held. But soon, his mind would take over- when she allowed it. Not a moment sooner. Too soon… and all was lost.

She was his mentor, his teacher. And her student needed her. The Sith might have cast Darth Traya aside, but Revan had need for Master Kreia. And she needed him too. The path laid out for her was clear.

Gently, Kreia settled herself back into a meditative state. She felt the pulls of fate, caught the strings of the galaxy… searching. For the perfect opportunity. She needed to know where Revan would be, where she could come to him. And gently, she felt it through the Force. _The Endar Spire_. The Jedi's plan for Revan was to enlist him on that ship and bring him to the Ojoster sector, the Taris system specifically, in hopes of accessing a few select memories from Revan- memories even Kreia couldn't grasp- by touching down on Taris and having him return to the old battlefield. A decent plan- for the Jedi- but with one fatal flaw. But the Republic was losing the war.

By the time the Jedi put their plan into action, Malak would have full knowledge of it. Because he would have access to Revan's intelligence network, it was simply the way of things. He would try and ambush them. Not for Revan, but for Bastila. The bond… the Jedi might not understand the implications, but they understood the connection. And Malak, the impatient, monstrous creature that he was, would fail to capture her. The tendrils of the force told her it would be so. She could already envision, through those currents, Revan and Bastila landing on Taris. Taris was perfect. Revan- if what she saw was true- would be alone, or with those who could easily be subdued. That was her window of opportunity. An excellent time to retrain him, and perhaps rescue Bastila- she would have to think on that part- maybe she could even begin to subvert her in the process. Taris was the perfect place for their reunion, and the return of Revan…

Kreia stood up; her fatigue and weariness overcome by her newfound determination. No longer Darth Traya, she was master Kreia. She was truly thankful for the force's intervention in that moment. Now, it had shown her the way. She pulled her hood on, and grasped the broken remains of her lightsaber. Time to prepare…

* * *

"_Awaken_."

Romulus Katarn woke suddenly, roused from his slumber by the voice. Bleary-eyed, he rose his head to let his ears meet the sounds of explosions and screams in the night. Still half-asleep and not fully cognizant of what was occurring, he glanced over towards the mirror. His reflection stared back. He was a younger man with light brown hair- neatly parted in the middle when he had a chance to groom himself properly- and a clear, pointed face. He began to rub his tired blue eyes before an explosion completely woke him up. He bolted up and looked out his window in time to see a fighter go past. Definitely not a Republic fighter. Sith! They were under attack! At that moment, a white haired male- with a similar physique to his own- dressed in a Republic battlesuit charged into the room waving his gun in the air.

"We've been ambushed by a Sith battle fleet! The Endar Spire is under attack! Hurry up- we don't have much time!" He paused, seeing his half-undressed comrade's confusion. "I'm Trask Ulgo, your bunkmate." That statement received a look of suspicion, and Trask could guess why. "We work opposite shifts, so that's why we haven't seen each other before. Not important right now! Hurry up, we have to protect Bastila!" By that point he was shouting, and Romulus had to rub his ears.

H quickly grabbed his gear- his pants, shirt, and vest- and dressed himself in his regular clothes as well as a taking hold of the vibroblade. He also attached a Stealth field generator as a substitute to his regular belt. His regular uniform must be… being refitted or something. Didn't matter now. Arming himself, he nodded at Trask to signal that he was ready to move.

They ran to the door which had closed as a security precaution. Trask bent down, and after a few seconds of fiddling with wires, the door opened. They both charged down the smoke-filled hallway before a beep from their communicator interrupted them. They nearly missed it due to the roar of the surrounding battle.

"This is Carth Onasi- the Sith are threatening to overrun our position! We can't hold out much longer against their firepower! All hands to the bridge!" The communicator cut off as abruptly as it began.

"That was Carth contacting us on out portable communicators," Mentioned Trask, displaying his talent at stating the obvious. "He's one of the Republics best pilots! He's seen more combat than the rest of the ship's crew put together- except maybe the Jedi," He muttered the last part quietly, as if making a note to himself. "If he says things are bad, you better believe it! Move; we have to get to the bridge to help defend Bastila!" he finally finished his long winded tirade. Romulus resisted the urge to sigh in relief.

The pair continued down the hall, pausing occasionally to regain their balance as the ship rocked from the firefight in space. When they reached the next door, Romulus bent down to hack it open- snip a wire here, cut the power there- and they charged onward into the next hall. Apparently a combat zone. Already there was a firefight between Republic defenders and the invading Sith boarding party. Except that the second they entered the fray their last Republic ally went down for the count. Sighing in annoyance, Romulus charged at the nearest Sith soldier and before he knew what was happening, the Sith soldier was dead; his chest impaled by the blade. Instincts drowning out thought, he moved to attack the other soldier, but not before Trask fired a hail of bullets at the other Sith, and he dropped as well. Romulus holstered his vibroblade and, with a nod from Trask, pulled out a blaster pistol as they both resumed up the now deserted hallway, the ship contuing to rock from the force of the Sith attack.

Trask and Romulus entered another room where two more Sith soldiers stood guard. A few well placed shots before they could react, and they were down for the count as well; the blood pooling under their lifeless bodies. They both charged through the room and into the adjacent hallway just in time to see a group of their Republic comrades blasted off their feet by a grenade. Grimacing, Trask turned the corner and began firing at the Sith soldiers opposite them while Romulus dove out from behind the wall towards a cover of debris, flinging a grenade in their direction. In the ensuing firefight, they neglected to dispatch the grenade, and a few more Sith corpses lay at their feet. Knowing time was growing short, they turned at the intersection and headed to the door.

It opened just in time for Romulus and Trask to see a Jedi dueling with a Sith, the blades humming malevolently as sweat ran down both of their faces. Romulus watched, almost transfixed, as the Jedi swung her lightsaber at the Sith, only for her attack to be blocked, and for him to pull his lightsaber away and press his advantage. After a few slashes and parries, the Jedi Knight succeeded in cutting down the Sith. She turned to look at the newcomers only to be felled by a nearby blast from an overloaded conduit, Romulus's frantic warnings about it having gone unnoticed by her during their fight. He rushed over to her to see if he could so something- anything- to save her as Trask began firing at approaching Sith troops whose attention had been drawn by the blast. Romulus examined the gaping wound on her side and shakily checked her pulse. She was dead. He was about to get up and move on to support Trask when the same voice from earlier spoke to him once more.

"_Take both of their lightsabers; you may need them in the future_."

Nodding silently at the sensible advice, Romulus grabbed both their lightsabers as he got up, and tucked them securely into his jacket. He stood and began firing as the last of the Sith soldiers died. Trask glanced down at the Jedi, and Romulus shook his head silently. Time to move on. They continued down the hall and scrambled into the bridge. Opening the door, they were immediately engaged by two Sith soldiers as Romulus pulled his vibroblade. Trask glanced around worriedly.

"Bastila's not here! They must have retreated to the escape pods! We better head that way too." He didn't need to say that once Bastila left the ship, the Sith would have no more use for it and turn it into dust. They charged through the bridge ignoring the blasts around them that killed several skirmishing Republic and Sith troopers, and entered another room. At the other end of the room a door opened, and a dark Jedi wielding a crimson lightsaber emerged. This man was completely bald and the black robes he donned while twirling double-bladed lightsaber screamed "Fear me!"; he was obviously a high-ranking Sith. This was bad.

"Damn it! Another Dark Jedi!" Trask glanced at him, before nodding and turning back towards the Sith, "You get to the escape pods and I'll hold him off. GO!" he shouted as he charged and sealed the door behind him. Not willing to let his sacrifice be in vain, Romulus quickly opened the door next to him and departed before the Sith had a chance to pursue. He was touched by the soldier's sacrifice, but he couldn't let it weigh on his conscience now.

As he entered the new hallway, his personal communicator rang out again. "This is Carth Onasi. I'm tracking your position through the Endar Spire's life support system." He took a breath, "Bastila's escape pod is away- you're the last surviving crew member! I can't wait for you much longer; you have to get to the escape pods soon! But be careful- there's a Sith patrol just down the corridor."

Romulus switched on his stealth field generator as he leveled his newly equipped pistol at the Sith. One well placed shot in the head, and he was moving on. In the next room were another two Sith soldiers. Was the no end to the infinite number of troops the Sith seemed to have at their command? Romulus's superior shooting skills quickly dispatched them both, and his personal communicator rang out as Carth explained to him that the next room was full of Sith and about his few options for getting past them. Romulus charged over to the nearby terminal and a few commands later, he had overloaded the conduit in the next room, killing all the Sith inside. He sprinted through both rooms and was greeted by a soldier who could only be Carth- last man on the ship and all that- as another explosion rocked the ship.

"You made it just in time! There's only one active escape pod left. Come on, we can hide out on the planet below!" Carth shouted as he moved towards the escape pod. Romulus quickly followed- not crazy enough to argue at a time like this- and soon they were both securely inside as Carth issued the commands to leave the doomed ship. Within seconds, their pod had been fired from the ship. It's last act, as it blew up in a spectacular blaze of glory; the Sith fighter's barrage finally bearing fruit. The wreckage exploded again and again as the ship continued to scatter and debris flew into space, a piece colliding with their pod. They were hurled faster towards Taris by the force of the explosion and debris and as Romulus's head collided with the pod's roof, he knew no more.

* * *

On the planet below, the former Darth Traya woke from her meditating slumber as she felt the shift within the force. It had been a long year for her. While waiting for Revan to eventually come to Taris, she had to journey to the planet herself, and establish her cover identity. Such tasks were mere child's play with the Force. And with so many weak-willed fools around… it had also been something of a challenge to gather the supplies she needed. Credits were easy for someone of her prestigious abilities to easily acquire- lightsaber components were not. Of course, with the Dark Lord of the Sith hovering over the planet, intense lightsaber combat, which drew on the force, would have to be avoided. That aside, denying one of the greatest lightsaber duelists their weapon of choice was almost criminal, so efforts had to be expended in that department. Overall, there was a surprising amount that she needed to take care of, from supplies to mitigating suspicion; so much so she was almost amused the Force had offered no warning. But all that was unimportant now, it was almost time.

And in the last few months she had been on Taris, when she had finally acquired everything she needed for this endeavor, and could just lay back quietly, waiting, monitoring the currents of the force, she had turned her inquiries to other channels. Stretching out her senses, feeling the webs of the force, and searching the galaxy beyond. Every scrap of information was needed to prepare, if she were to help her student overthrow The Unworthy One. But she knew who it would involve, and what had to be done. And so she had meditated.

In the year since she had reached out through the force and touched Revan's mind, her initial assessment of Bastila Shan had only gotten more critical. Her present predicament served as an example: she felt the Jedi crash into the planets surface hours mere before. In the interim, she had been captured by a swoop gang, a gathering of petty mongrels pretending their sports allotted them some special privilege. This was who Revan… Kreia snorted in disgust; she did not know whether to feel anger, pity, or condescension towards Revan's other half. And she sighed, as she had a thousand times before, as her mind returned to that train of thought.

Because an examination of the bond between Bastila and Revan- and she meant a close examination- not just feeling out a connection via the webs of the force, certainly gave her pause. That type of bond was revered in old Jedi culture as "a marriage made by the force." A connection on such an infinite level, where you shared thoughts, dreams, memories- It had to be forged by a moment of pure love. Or what the Jedi called love; what she could only describe as misplaced admiration. But the connection, even if the foolish Jedi no longer "allowed" love and attachment to foster tried to manipulate it or break it, would certainly bind Bastila to Revan. The why was unimportant. And therein lay the opportunity: He had a chance to convert her, to gain an ally and confidant with great power and rare ability. Now if only she wasn't such a naïve, arrogant, fool... She smiled slightly, amused by the prospects of completely shattering this pathetic little Jedi's entire worldview.

Everything was ready, though. Revan, she felt through the Force, had been injured and knocked unconscious. Oddly enough, this worked out perfectly; she would have otherwise been forced to sedate and disable him while she worked. The residue from the battle was casting a strong covering over the planet, shielding the events from view. This would be the perfect time to use the Force to manipulate his mind- to bring Revan back. His companion- she had already sensed it to be Republic pilot Carth Onasi- well that would be a difficulty. A slight one. True, he could be a valuable pawn, but there was a lot of potential for him to ruin her plans, to ruin Revan's plans. Except that she had already forseen that possibility and figured out how to convert him, how to make him see Revan's side…

And now Carth and Revan's pod were closing in on the upper city of Taris. Kreia slowly got to her feet as she pulled her hood over her head to hide her white eyes and her long grey locks, a pistol in her hand and her lightsaber concealed on the inside of her black cloak. She stretched briefly and teen xited the apartment, mentally tracking the pod's progress through the Force. Within fifteen minutes, she stood on a walkway looking out over Taris's glowing lights. The pod raced towards her- it would land mere feet away. Using the Force to protect her presence and to shroud herself from the other interested Tarisians, she watched on.

The pod crashed into the walkway of Taris with the force of an explosion. Dust and debris scattered around the pod and any Tarisian onlookers scrambled away, fearing for their lives. She saw the dented pod door open and Carth grab and begin to lug Revan's body. Kreia felt out through the Force and sent a command to Carth's mind- "_follow me_." The Republic soldier glanced around before blindly followed her with no clue where he was going as he continued to hoist Revan's body.

Finally, they got to Kreia's apartment, a deserted looking apartment located in a lower city slum, and she unlocked the door and allowed Carth to place Revan's body on the bed. Kreia stood over him while she froze Carth. She began manipulating the bond, restoring Revan. It was difficult, or it would have been so had all the work not been done beforehand. All she had to do was strip away the fake identity the Jedi implanted, and reactivate his old one. Seconds later, it was done. Revan was back. Kreia felt relief wash over her as Revan unconsciously fell into a healing trance. Then, turning her attention back to Carth, she gave her final command for the man to sit down and remain frozen while she revealed herself. Carth sat in an uncomfortable Tarisian chair s Kreia dropped the illusion and revealed herself; her hold over his weak mind departing, and Carth returning to full consciousness.


	2. Chapter 2

AN: It's been a long time, but I'm finally ready to give this project the attention it deserves. I hope you all enjoy this fic, and I do not own KOTOR or the Star Wars Universe. To my knowledge, at this moment, Mr. lucas does. I preface that because, as has been said, "Always in Motion is the future."

Chapter One: The Return

Revan opened one bleary eye after sleeping for what felt like a lifetime. Gingerly, he sat up, and immediately felt a jolt of pain in his head. Carefully rubbing his head, he suddenly realized he was lying in unfamiliar territory.

"Finally, you awaken," An old, delicate voice declared from just outside of his range.

"Kreia?" Revan mumbled confusedly. "Is that you? What are you doing here? Wait… where is here? Did Alek and I go out partying last night?"

Kreia laughed softly. "It's good to have you back Revan."

"Back?" Revan muttered. "Did I leave?" He was still holding his head, and grumbling softly.

"Yes- back, Revan," Kreia replied as she knelt down next to him and put her hands on his head. A few seconds later, and the pain hand vanished.

Revan shook his head to make sure the pain was gone, and then stretched a bit. "Thanks Kreia," He said gratefully. Then he stopped rubbing his eyes, and stared at his former mentor. "Kreia! What are you doing here! What happened to you!"

Kreia sighed softly. "The here, is the planet Taris. You crash landed here with the Commander of the Endar Spire."

"Taris?" Revan's face turned stony. "I once made a promise that if I ever returned to this… hellhole, that I would burn it to the ground."

"Knowing your former apprentice, he will have no qualms about fulfilling your wishes," Kreia replied neutrally. "But that is an issue to be dealt with later. For now, I need you to relax, and… remember."

_"Remember what?" _Revan wanted to ask, but almost as soon as the question was asked in his mind, the bombardment began. Smells, thoughts, emotions, flashes of memory from another time, another life, slammed into him with the force of a wookie. While he was processing what the force was telling him, Revan muttered, "I thought you were supposed to be on Malachor? At the Academy?"

"I was," Kreia replied softly. "The Force saw fit to change my plans," she muttered, delight evident in her tone.

"You plans?" It was coming back to Revan. "Where are Sion and Nihilus? The abominations?" he muttered.

"They betrayed me," Kreia whispered. Revan looked up sharply. "They betrayed me; they attempted to strip me of the force. They left me to die at the heart of Malachor."

"What should we do about those traitors!" Revan snarled.

Kreia smiled beneath her hood. "Alas Revan, our problems are greater than two rogue Siths on a power trip."

Revan faltered. "Kreia… what do you mean? Why am I on Taris? Who is that guy sleeping in the corner? Why were you betrayed? What are you doing here? What in Sith's blood is going on around here!"

"Revan, you must calm down. I will tell you everything," Kreia promised.

"Fine," he muttered as he lay back on the bed. With all the bantha poodoo he'd gotten into over the years, surely whatever it was Kreia had to tell him couldn't be that bad. Right?

"As I was saying Revan, you are on the planet Taris. You crash landed on this planet," Kreia explained.

"How… could I possibly crash-land on this Hutt-spawned planet?" Revan snarled.

"The vessel you were on, the Endar Spire, was attacked by Sith fighters under the command of your former student," Kreia explained, knowing the type of reaction her explanation would receive.

To her surprise, Revan merely took a deep breath. "Kreia, why would I be on a Republic vessel that Malak decided to attack?"

"Because Malak betrayed you," Kreia answered. "And because the Jedi sent to capture brought you back to Coruscant, treated and rehabilitated you, and then, in an effort to gain the upper hand in their war, implanted new memories in you and hoped you would eventually lead them to a way to destroy everything you've ever accomplished."

Revan starred at her. "Oh," he muttered. "And I thought it was something complicated." He paused. "Kreia, this may be an incredibly poor time to ask this, but have you perhaps decided that this was the perfect time to perform the most complicated practical joke ever on me?"

Kreia didn't smile. "I wish that were the case. It isn't, though."

Revan stared up at the ceiling. "So let me get this straight: I am back on Taris- accursed planet- because Malak betrayed me, which left me to the Jedi's mercy, meaning that they helped me recover… but tried to wipe out my memories and personality, so that I could help them destroy the Star Forge, but I ended up on the Endar Spire, which Malak, seeing as he had access to my spy network, learned of, so he ordered an attack on the vessel, one which I survived, and here I am." Revan continued staring up before he snarled loudly and several tendrils of Sith Lightning rocketed out of his hands and blackened the ceiling that served as the target of his anger.

Kreia smiled gently. "Close… but wrong. You had everything right up until that last part. Malak does not know you're alive, but the hope of the Republic, Bastila Shan, was also on that vessel, and the intent of the attack was to capture her."

Revan's eyes bugged out. "Bastila Shan! The hope of the Republic!" Revan proceeded to roll over the bed and fall off laughing. "Brainbolted Bastila! Now I know you're pulling my leg, Kreia!"

"I'm serious," Kreia replied after Revan's laughter had tapered off. "She is the hope of the Republic."

"Kreia how could _she_ be the hope of the Republic!" Revan snarled. "She is mediocre, talentless, stuck-up, brash, rather obnoxois-"

"She has a knack for Battle Meditation," Kreia inserted.

Revan looked at her strangely. "Kreia, every force adept can use Battle Meditation," He replied in a strained tone.

"Not like this, Revan. Her meditation is strong enough to influence whole armies," Kreia supplied.

"Well that's great," Revan muttered. "Why does Malak even care? He should have the forces to just wipe out a Republic fleet, Battle Meditation or not." Revan slapped himself. "Of course, he wants a new apprentice, right?" Kreia nodded. "Why did he always have to think with his other head?" Revan groaned. He looked up. "Who is that guy?" He said, gesturing to the man apparently sleeping in the chair on the opposite side of the room.

"That's Carth Onasi," Kreia answered.

"Who?"

"Served in the Republic fleet during the Mandolorian Wars and this present conflict. Saul Karath's protégé," Kreia answered. "Rather negatively impacted by the death of his wife and his separation from his son during Malak's attack on Telos."

"Why is he helping you, exactly?" Revan queried, holding back a wince.

"He isn't yet. However, once he hears that I can help reunite him with his son, who from what I can tell, is on Korriban studying to be a Sith, he will become much more cooperative," Kreia answered.

"Wake him, please?" Revan requested.

Kreia sighed and used the force to wake Carth from his slumber. Slowly his eyelids fluttered open and he came out of unconsciousness. Once he had partially woken up, his eyes locked with Revan's, and he attempted to jump up and start attacking him, except that Kreia was still using the Force to restrain him.

"So you are Carth Onasi?" Revan asked softly. Carth stared at him defiantly. "I said: so you are Carth Onasi?" Revan repeated in a slightly higher tone. "Blink once for no, and twice for yes."

Carth and Revan engaged in an impromptu staring contest before finally Carth blinked twice. "Good, so you are Carth Onasi. Excellent. Now then, you may call me Revan. Or, if it makes you feel more comfortable, Romulus Katarn." He saw Carth's look of confusion. "It will be my name for a while going forward."

"I was once Darth Revan, Dark Lord of the Sith. For obvious reasons, like nearly being murdered by my apprentice, that shall be listed as a former occupation-"

"Yeah, I bet if you had your chance, you'd go right back on-" Kreia suddenly clamped down on Carth's mouth once more with the Force.

"No, Kreia, we should let him speak. After all, we shall need… Captain? Commander? Admiral? Whatever his title is, we shall need his assistance going forward," Revan remarked. Kreia scowled and stopped using the Force to shut Carth up, who did not resume speaking.

"Now then, you seem to be under the impression that I am a sociopath who delights in serial killing, because my apprentice decided charcoaling a planet was a good idea. Malak attacked Telos at my behest, it is true, but he was only supposed to destroy all military installations. When he got… creative, he lost the right to continue to possess a jaw. For what it is worth, I am sorry that my actions unintentionally resulted in the death of you wife," Revan finished.

"Yeah, I bet you are you sadistic son of a-"

"Now really Mr. Onasi, let's keep it civil. Whether you accept my apology or not, it is still there. However, I do have a proposition for you," Revan remarked with his eyes glistening.

"I won't listen to anything you have to say you Sith scumbag!" Carth shouted.

"Please lower your voice, Mr. Onasi. We are in enemy territory after all. So you say I have nothing to offer you? Not even a reunion with your son?" Revan remarked casually.

Carth stilled. "What are you talking about?"

"You presume that your son died in the ruins of Telos. You presume incorrectly. He is currently on Korriban, studying to be a Sith. Of course, such a situation makes my assistance, abilities, and sheer charisma invaluable for securing a reconciliation," Revan replied softly.

"You're lying!" Carth spat. "You have to be! Dustil is-"

"On Korriban," Revan interrupted. "Here, I shall use the Force so that you may see what I see." Ignoring Carth's protests, Revan used the force to establish a link between their minds, allowing him to see Revan's visions of Dustil Onasi studying to be a Sith on Korriban. After a few minutes, Revan severed the connection.

"My son! He's really-"

"Yes he is. But the only way you're getting there and getting a chance to reunite with him is if you have my aid," Revan pointed out. "Without it, you are not even leaving this room alive."

Carth glared at him for a long time. A minute, two minutes… finally, after what felt like an hour, he whispered in a tone of sheer disgust, "What do you want?"

Revan smiled. "Now Carth, my days of destroying the galaxy are behind me, I assure you. All I want is your assistance in exacting revenge on my former apprentice." Revan turned and began pacing. "You see, we are on Taris, which is under heavy Sith blockade, and we are stuck here with no way to leave-"

"What about Bastila! Let me guess, because she's the hope of the Republic, you want-"

Revan turned away from Carth's outburst. "So you were telling the truth? She really is regarded as the hope of the Republic?" Kreia nodded slightly.

"Fine, I guess we do have to meet up with Bastila as well," the disgust was evident in Revan's tone. "But yes, over the course of our journey, we shall reunite you with Dustil. It is in your interests to cooperate with me, especially since I no longer desire the destruction of the Republic," Carth's eyes widened slightly, "And it is in my interests to cooperate with you, because I technically owe you for setting a mad dog against your planet, and because I have use for a pilot as skilled as you are. Does that seem reasonable?"

Carth continued to stare at Revan in disgust. Finally, he looked away and answered, "Yes," in a low voice, as if he was already regretting making a deal with the devil.

"Excellent. Kreia, let him up. We have to begin planning," Revan commanded.

Carth found himself able to stand, and he shakily got to his knees, only to quickly sit back down once again, while Kreia once more sat on the floor and set herself in a meditative position.

"So here's the 64,000 credit question: What do we do now?" Revan asked.

"Wait, we're on Taris, which is under heavy Sith blockade… why is that exactly?" Carth asked.

"The Sith are searching for Bastila because my foolish former apprentice believes she is the perfect answer for the 'who is worthy to be my apprentice' question," Revan answered. "From what the Force tells me, it is impossible to leave this planet without the proper codes and an extremely fast ship."

"So what is our first priority?" Kreia asked.

"I'd say getting back in form, but I do not believe I can train in adequate enough secrecy here, despite your beliefs to the contrary. I believe that leaving this planet with all due haste is the correct path to take," Revan replied. "But our first task must be pooling resources, and gathering better intelligence." He turned to Carth. "Aside from your considerable skill with a ship and as a shrewd tactician, what else do you bring to the table, Mr. Onasi?"

Carth scowled. "I'm pretty decent with a blaster," He muttered after a few seconds of thought, "And I have a lot of experience with this kind of thing."

"Excellent. Kreia is of course a mistress of the Force, able to use it in ways you can't even imagine, while I am a former Dark Lord of the Sith," Revan mentioned. "As to getting information," He turned to Kreia, "You shall stay here and keep watch over the apartment, while also mediating and feeding us any necessary information, while Carth and I go scouting out the planet by talking to people and mingling at the local bar, and maybe even buying him a new gun or two. Does this seem acceptable?"

Kreia nodded. "I still believe that your focus should be on getting back into form."

"I know you do, but neither of us can deny, after factoring in our past experiences, that Alec has become unstable, and that if he catches a hint about the fact that I am alive and gunning for him, then he may make our already precarious situation… untenable," Revan explained.

Kreia frowned. "I disapprove of this course of action, but I understand your reasoning."

"Thank you, Master," Revan replied. "Luckily, I believe we are still able to use the Force in small doses, but any displays like mine," He gestured to the ceiling and Carth's eyes widened, "May well give us away. However, I do feel secure enough to risk getting back in form with a lightsaber," He declared as he held out his hand and the one finished lightsaber among his Master's collection soared towards him. He turned to Carth. "Arm yourself, dear boy. We have an appointment to keep with Taris."


	3. Chapter 3

AN: Here's another installment for this story. I don't own Kotor or Star Wars, and I hope you all enjoy.

Chapter Two: The Prodigal Knight

"Humans hiding out with aliens! They must be Republic Fugitives!" The Sith officer shouted, gesturing wildly to his droids. Two shots were fired, killing one of the Duros that had been arguing with them. The other crouched down and reflexively shielded himself with his hands.

Revan lazily held out his hand, lifting the officer into the air, before he clenched his hand, forcing his captive to scream in agony. If one were to closely listen, they could have heard the sounds of his bones shattering simultaneously. Actually, the closest one need be was somewhere in the hall. He unclenched, letting the officer's body drop to the ground with a thud. Another wave of his hand, and the droids started fired at each other- as he fried their targeting interface- and quickly reduced themselves to scrap. He finally lowered his hand when all three were defeated.

"What was that about small doses of the force?" Carth whispered to him. If Revan didn't know better, he would have suspected that the Republic soldier was disappointed about not getting a chance to fire his gun.

"That was a small dose," Revan whispered back, before casually walking towards the Duros, who was standing over his friend's body.

"He was an idiot," the Duros muttered. He glanced at Revan. "Don't worry about them, I'll hide the bodies." He paused. "How exactly did you do that?" he asked Revan hesitantly.

"The force," Revan answered back casually in Durese. The Duros's eyes widened slightly. "I am a Jedi, friend." It was the easiest dodge he could have used, given the circumstances.

"What are you doing here?" the Duros asked curiously.

"Looking for a friend amidst the city," Revan explained. "Can you tell me a bit about the surrounding area, my friend?" It didn't hurt that he had used a small dose of the force to hurry this along.

The Duros glanced at the bodies, eager to deal with Revan and hide them away. "Across the walk is the local cantina. Down the street a bit is the medical center. If you go in the opposite direction, you can reach another street that leads to more apartments, and at the other end of it is a droid shop, and the place the Sith set up camp," He responded hurriedly.

"Thank you for your time. Me and my associate will get out of your way," Revan responded, as he beckoned Carth forth.

"What was all that?" Carth whispered once he caught up.

"He is going to hide the bodies, and he provided me with a general layout of the area," Revan explained. "I'm guessing communication skills aren't your strong suit. Which is surprising, because your records show that these kinds of situation are supposed to be pure pazaak for you. Or maybe you just can't speak Durese," he finished thoughtfully.

"How do you know we can trust him?" Carth whispered urgently.

"Carth, I just killed a Republic officer and fried two droids in front of him. Do you see any possible reason for him to lie to me considering that?" Revan glanced at him. "I do believe you have trust issues. Not surprising after Saul, but-"

"Shut! Up!" Carth snarled. "I may have agreed to work with you, but I'll be damned if you-"

"Carth, we are stranded on an unfriendly Sith-occupied planet. Animosity is not the answer," Revan countered warningly, his lightsaber in his hand. "But I think I did bring up a relevant point; you do have trust issues. Granted, you have a valid reason to be suspicious with me, but you have to start thinking more and reacting less." Good thing they'd chosen to do this in a deserted stretch of hallway, or else their cover would have been blown quite easily.

"Why you slimy-"

"Yes, yes. I'm a slimy bastard who's done you wrong. Let's save that for when Malak's forces aren't bearing down on us, shall we? Okay, here's an idea, how about we put the guns away and have a drink or two in the Cantina?" Revan suggested. "Break the ice, reduce the tension, and all that."

"And how will that help us find Bastila?" Carth asked, clearly annoyed.

"Well, we'll never find her if we're at each other's throats like this," Revan pointed out. "Somehow, we need to trust each other. As crazy as that seems. Besides, where else would have hearsay on Bastila but the cantina?'

Carth was looking dubiously at him. "How can I trust you?"

Revan smiled thinly. "Carth, truth be told, you can't. You're not physically capable of such a thing. And that's the problem. But here," He held out his lightsaber, "Take this. Now you're armed, and I'm not."

"What about the force?" Carth added.

"I can hardly strip myself of the force any more than the Jedi Council can. The only Jedi who I know of who has been stripped of the force is Meetra, and that was a rather unusual set of circumstances," Revan explained.

"Meetra?" Carth asked curiously.

"Meetra Surik. If my memory serves me correctly, you served under her in the Mandalorian Wars," Revan mentioned casually. "Shall we get that drink now?"

Carth glanced around, weighing his options. Finally, he sighed. "Why not? It's not like I have any better ideas."

* * *

"The music is too loud," Carth muttered.

"Obviously not loud enough; I can still hear you complaining," Revan pointed out. He sat himself at one of the booths in the corner, and Carth took the seat opposite him. The admittedly attractive waitress soon came over to them. "Two Tarisian Ales, please?" Revan ordered.

Carth's eyes widened as she walked away. "Are you sniffing spice? We can't afford that!"

Revan smiled. "Kreia accumulated a few hundred credits for our use. Oh, and you might be interested to know that she completely disapproves of this little excursion," Revan added as an afterthought.

"Somehow, that actually makes me feel better," Carth replied without missing a beat. The waitress arrived with their drinks, temporarily cutting off conversation. Warily, Carth clenched his and took a sip. "Not bad." He glanced at Revan warily. What he really meant was; hey he actually hasn't poisoned it! Or at least, not yet…"So, if we're supposed to be working with each other, would you mind my asking a few questions?"

"Knock yourself out," Revan shrugged.

"First of all, why did we have to spend forty-five minutes shopping for clothes?" Carth asked through clenched teeth. He apparently was rather unhappy with his new grey powered battlesuit.

"Because, Mr. Onasi, you walking around a Sith occupied planet in a Republic Flight Officer's jacket may have led to complications," Revan posited idly. "Though, even now, you wandering around while muttering wildly about stopping the Sith might make things complicated." Revan thought for a second. "Anyway, that's why I bought myself something new as well- we're going for the 'wealthy mercenaries trapped here' look. Not the, 'Republic Soldiers who crash landed here in an escape pod', thing."

"Yeah, I get that. But why do you get the cool jacket combo?" Carth whined good-humoredly. The black jacket, black shirt, and dark pants outfit looked pretty good on Revan.

"Because I really don't look like a mercenary or a soldier. Hell, it took a hood and a long black cape to make me look the part of a Sith Lord," Revan replied. "On the other hand, you scream "warrior." That outfit seemed to fit you. Whereas I screamed 'the brains of the operation', hence the get-up."

"Yeah, well," Carth took a sip of his drink. "So what is up with that old woman?" he whispered, honestly curious.

"Kreia? She has perhaps the most unique resume in the galaxy. On it you would find former Jedi Master and former Sith Lord." Carth snorted into his drink. "It's true. She used to be the Jedi Historian of the archives, and she was also Darth Traya, the mistress of Betrayal, teaching my Sith disciples at our secret academy on Malachor V," Revan whispered.

Carth glanced around. "Isn't this a little too… public to talk about things like that?"

"Nah, I'm using the forces to prevent anyone else from hearing our conversation," Revan explained as he finished off his Ale. "Ah, that was good. Up for another one?"

Carth stared at him at that revelation, before he glanced at his drink for a long moment. "All right," he agreed begrudgingly. Revan summoned over the waitress and ordered another few rounds. "So, any ideas on how we find Bastila and get off this planet. You heard the chatter, right?"

"Sith blockade," Revan repeated. He rotated his empty glass a few times. "Well, here's what I was thinking. If things haven't changed significantly, then the Sith are still using their state-of-the-art auto-targeting lasers. They're the ones where a ship trying to take off without giving the proper codes is fired upon and disintegrated instantly. If my command hierarchy is still in place, then a copy of those codes will reside at the Sith military base. So, it should be fairly easy for me to sneak in and swipe a copy," Revan proposed. The waitress brought over their second round of drinks. Revan took a sip, and glanced at Carth. "Aside from the obvious "how can I trust you to get the job done", what objections do you have?"

Carth took a long drink from his glass. "It's a little too risky," He pointed out. "Something goes wrong, we lose you, and any hope of recovering Bastila. The only reason I care at all about losing you is because that crazy old lady would track me down wherever I run and fry me to a crisp."

Revan waved aside his objections, especially his fears of Kreia tracking him down and quickly dispatching him afterwards. In truth, his death would probably be of the slow, painful variety. "No. Not too risky. The way I'd do it, they'd never realized their codes were gone. I was even thinking of doing that after we got done here. No time like the present," Revan explained.

"For the record, I hate this plan, but I already know that there's nothing I can do to stop you," Carth countered. He sighed and took a sip of his drink. "There's something I want to ask you; something I need to know for myself." Revan nodded for him to continue. "How- how could you betray the Republic?" Carth asked neutrally. He stared at his glass, as if afraid of looking up and finding an answer he didn't like.

Revan stared at him for a long moment. "I will answer, but you are definitely not going to like it. Any more than you like the idea of me turning to the dark side and slaughtering innocent civilians. And I'll try to make a long story short." He took a breath. "During the middle of the Mandalorian War, Malak and I ended up on Malachor V. Before the final battle- I mean. On that planet, we discovered… remnants of the True Sith."

"True Sith?" Carth asked suspiciously. What was he spewing?

"I'm getting to that. Anyway, we found this Academy devoted to the teachings of the old Sith Empire, and signs that they were still quite active. Sith. Empire. Carth. You've heard the tales," Carth nodded slightly. "Later, near the end of the war, I learned that Mandalore the Ultimate had been manipulated by the True Sith into attacking the Republic." Carth stared at him in shock. "Yeah, that was kind of my reaction at the time. So Malak and I, with our loyal fleet in tow, set out for the deep regions, aiming to find and destroy the Sith. We eventually came upon The Sith Empire, and we tried to sneak in and kill the Emperor. We failed. Pretty badly, come to think of it. Anyway, we were captured, but rather than being killed, we were to be… repurposed. Malak was brainwashed- completely and utterly brainwashed- into falling to the darkness and attacking the Republic. I wasn't completely brainwashed."

"You see, he might have exerted a lot of mental control over me, but I still had a plan: to attack and defeat the Republic, but keep it intact enough to wage a war against and defeat the True Sith. By using their own arrogance and certainty in their power against them. I figured that they could have manipulated almost anyone into waging continual war against the Republic, so, if it was a war they wanted, it was a war they would get. One that would lead to their eventual undoing. So, I attacked the Republic, but with the intention of either conquering it and reorganizing it, or letting it grow strong and unified through repelling my threat. Except, I'm pretty sure they found out my plan and ordered Malak to dispose of me. Or else, his greed for power has truly transformed him from the man I once knew. Anyway, now, since that avenue is closed off to me, I now have to find another route to kill my old friend, defeat the Sith, and get the Republic strong enough to crush them. Unfortunately, all of that is true; I wish it weren't. It would actually be easier at this point if I fell to the dark side and decided to start crushing the Republic one day. Anyway, that's my story, compressed into five minutes," Revan finished. Carth was staring at him open-mouthed. "So what did you think?"

"Are you serious?" Carth asked, absolutely horrified. 'Please let this all be a joke, by an evil man with a ridiculous sense of humor. Please let this…'

"Oh yeah. Malak is their pawn- at least to a degree- I was as well for quite a while, and every second we fight, they get stronger. That's it in a nutshell," Revan shook his head. "It really was more comforting for you to think of me as an evil Sith Lord, wasn't it? Well, anyway, I know my story is hard to believe, but after we get off this planet, I do have some proof. Actually, Kreia does as well, come to think of it."

"What do we do?" Carth asked, still completely floored. Seriously, one Sith Empire was bad, two, with one as evil, manipulative, and shadowed in secrecy, was even worse.

"We grab Bastila, get the hell of this planet, hope I can broker a deal with the Jedi, finish off Malak, restructure the Republic, and then get ready to fight True Sith," Revan summarized. "Yeah, that's pretty much all I have at the moment."

"True Sith?" Carth asked again

"True Sith," Revan nodded. "Kreia was actually trying to organize another Sith faction to neutralize their own. Didn't seem to work out for her. Please don't ask about it- she'll either fry you, or tell you, and that second option wouldn't be nearly so bad if she didn't have such a way with words."

Carth tilted his drink back and polished off the contents. "There's a lot more to that story, isn't there?"

"Gee, let me think. Only my entire life," Revan replied sarcastically. "I'll tell you more when we're on our way to a safe haven, but I thought you needed to know that just so you stopped glaring at me and questioning my every move. We need off Taris, with Bastila in tow. Almost immediately. So here's my plan: you walk around this area keeping an ear out for news. Meanwhile, I'll head over to the Sith Base and grab us those lift-off codes. Granted, we'll still need a ship fast enough to run the blockade and shoot down the Sith fighters that give pursuit, but this is at least a step in the right direction. Anyway, we'll meet back here in five hours. Do you agree?"

Carth nodded. "Yeah, I do. Good luck Rev-Romulus. Romulus." He was slightly drunk. Only slightly, though. "May the force be with you."

* * *

It seemed like an odd paradox of self-interest, but the Sith base had a rather large ventilation system. The most common back door for any interested party. Or at least, it was a ventilation system large enough for a human to fit through. However, it was being used for its built purpose at the moment, which necessitated the use of a breathing trick Kreia had once shown him. Or had that been one of the skills she passed along in her memories? Either way, this previously inaccessible entrance stood open to him.

Well, that was hardly relevant now. He had a base to infiltrate. Revan held out his hand, and began using the force to unscrew the cover in one of the Sith control rooms. A few more twists, and the cover finally came loose, though Revan used the force to hold it in place. Closing his eyes in concentration, he began widening his senses, searching for any and all monitoring devices in the room. He felt around for a grand total of three. Once he had found them all, he disabled them with a final push through the force.

By themselves, these monitoring devices indicated very little. In a few minutes, a maintenance worker would be along to see what the problem was. Sure enough, five minutes later, a worker in full Sith garb walked into the room. Perfect.

Revan reached out with the force and directed his attention to the nearby maintenance panel. He quickly logged himself in, and that was when Revan used the force to order him to shut down all monitoring equipment in the base for a period of thirty minutes in order to fix the problem. The worker quickly communicated with his superiors to let them know the situation, and then set to work. That was Revan's cue to move.

He quickly slipped out of the ventilation shaft, using the force to shield his presence, and to gently put the cover back in such a way that it looked fine, but so he could also beat a hasty retreat if that became necessary. Luckily, with this technique, he could truly fool the senses of anyone not on the watch for it about his presence, by cloaking himself fully in the force, as the Cathar-born Jedi sometimes did when it was necessary. That was where he had originally learned this trick from. Now that he was basically invisible, it was time to find out where the codes he needed were.

"Katale! Why are the sensors out across the base?" the voice of an angry superior crackled through the communicator.

"Sir, the sensors in control room B just went out. I'm trying to fix the problem, but I need the system down a few moments in order to reprogram everything," the worker, Katale, explained.

"That's not regular procedure, soldier! And you should know that! Come to my office. Now!" Shouted the angry commander before he turned his own communicator off.

Revan, who had stayed to watch the scene, decided that he should follow. After all, any asshole who had the power to boss a worker around in this base might also have access to the launch codes. That was how things worked in _his_ Sith Empire.

Revan began following the worker as he left and turned into the hallway. He walked to the end, and opened the door. He was met by two military droids, who made no move to attack him. Probably because he had blinded their sensors to him; he was rather good with using the force on droids, after all. He walked past them, and into the elevator, which Revan slipped into just before it closed and started to rise. After a minute, the doors opened again, and the worker Revan had been trailing was met by an angry bald man. Who quite clearly seemed to be the appointed military governor. Well, at least Malak had kept with some of his own innovations.

"Sir! I apologize for disturbing you, but-" Revan tuned him out as he used the force to scan the man. Did he detect… yes, the governor had access to the force. As it should be in any decently run Sith Empire. Which also meant he was likely to be the person with the codes. Revan crept over towards him while the Sith commander chewed out his subordinate. With a feather light touch, Revan slipped a hand into the Sith's pocket and…

He grabbed a datapad. He turned it over, still using the force to keep it and himself hidden, to see that they were in fact the launch codes! Unseen by either Commander or worker, he quickly copied the codes onto his own datapad, the one he'd conveniently brought along, before quickly slipping the original back into the Sith Commander's pocket. His hand nearly slipped to the side and alerted the commander, but he stopped himself at the last minute as he safely deposited the codes. Good timing too, as the Commander had finished chewing out his subordinate, and he sent him off to fix the problem. From that point, it was pure pazaak to follow the technician back down the elevator, back to control room B, slip back into the Ventilation shaft, reactivate the monitoring devices, and slip out of the base without anyone being tipped off as to his presence.

* * *

"How did it go for you?" Revan asked Carth as he sat down at their table in the cantina.

"Not well," Carth grumbled. "I didn't find out much of interest, and I met a couple of exchange operatives."

"Stepped in, did you?" Revan surmised as he took a sip of his drink.

"What would you have done?" Carth challenged.

Revan smiled thinly. "Why don't you ask Kreia that particular question when we return to the rooms after this?"

"So, did your plan go off without a hitch?" Carth asked. Revan pulled his jacket open slightly to reveal a datapad. "How?"

"The force, the schematics from an officer's pocket- one who had a few too many to drink here, I might add-, and a little subtlety," Revan explained casually. "Now we just need Bastila, and a ride off this planet."

"Yeah, well there's some bad luck on that end," Carth replied. "I talked to the doctor at the clinic down the street. A couple of pods crashed in the Undercity. And we can't even get into the Lower City."

"Is that so? Hold that thought while I get us a pass," Revan replied as he got up and walked over to a lady sitting alone on one of the bar stools. He bent slightly and whispered to her, and she turned her head slightly. Another conversational exchange, and Revan took a seat beside her. After a round of drinks, they got up and walked towards the exit.

"_Carth, I won't be returning with you tonight. Meet me here at noon tomorrow, and I'll have a way around the elevator obstacle_," Revan's voice rang in his head. "_Good night, chap_."


End file.
